


the last podcast on the left presents: how to properly handle your hybrid

by ficfucker



Category: Last Podcast on The Left (Podcast) RPF
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Alternate Universe - Aliens, Crack Treated Seriously, Kid Fic, M/M, Multi, Not Beta Read, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:20:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24965122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficfucker/pseuds/ficfucker
Summary: henry is chosen to take care of  a baby. he makes it a group problem.
Relationships: Ben Kissel/Marcus Parks
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	the last podcast on the left presents: how to properly handle your hybrid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zwtfmate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zwtfmate/gifts).



> wrote this in under 24 hours so all typos and general messiness is mine
> 
> for matt because i gave him a taste and he immediately latched on so i had to provide... bless you, king

“Hello?”

Henry opens his right eye and is blinded by a sharp, surgical beam of white light. He winces and mutters, “Fuck.” He reaches his arm up to cover his face and slowly tries again. His vision is seared by the unending harshness of the light.

In front of him, three shadowed figures made fuzzy by his maladjustment to the sudden bright he finds himself in.

“What the fuck?”

It dawns on Henry then. He’s standing. Not horizontal in bed.

He blinks fiercely and things slant into focus.

**WE INTEND NO HARM.**

“Yea, okay,” Henry answers.

The Tall Grey in the middle of the group takes a step forward. It turns its head a centimeter to the side. Large bulbous eyes. No protruding nose, but rather, two slits above a thin egg-shell-hatch of a mouth. The skin of its face is slate grey and slightly pebbled with what could be pores, perhaps very fine scales.

Henry is certain that the booming voice in his head is coming from this Grey, though there is no bodily indication that it is speaking.

**HENRY ZEBROWSKI. YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED.**

Henry feels like he’s riding the best high he’s ever had. There’s a dizziness in the center of his skull, a shaking to his knees. “Selected?”

**YOUR KNOWLEDGE OF OUR RACE AND HUMAN INTERACTION MAKES YOU BEST SUITED FOR THIS TASK.**

For the first time, Henry glances around. He’s standing on smooth white tile, so shiny it almost looks plastic. Beyond that, however, all other details are obscured by the intense light pouring over him. It feels like he’s in an enclosed space. A room.

The Grey continues without Henry acknowledging it.

**GLOBAL WARMING PROVES A THREAT, NOT JUST TO YOUR GALAXY, BUT UNIVERSES MUCH FARTHER. INTER-BREEDING IS A MEANS OF SURVIVAL.**

That gets his attention. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he laughs. He’s not sure why he’s laughing. “Listen, guys, I’m down to bone like, almost any time, but no fuckin’ way am I gonna get speared by some Greys.”

Who is he kidding? If it means proof of extraterrestrials, Henry is game.

**THAT IS NOT WHAT IS REQUIRED OF YOU.**

And with that, the center Grey steps back, turns to the Grey on its left, and is handed an infant.

* * *

“Jesus fuckin’ _Christ_ , man! I’m comin!” Marcus barks. He pads through the living room with a grimace. He left the farm life behind precisely so he wouldn’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn. Henry continues his frenzied pounding on the door and Marcus groans. He’d been comfortably curled against Ben’s side, enjoying a quiet Sunday with no urgency and Henry’s spoiled it.

Marcus unlatches the front door. He’s ready to demand Henry tell him just what was so important it couldn’t wait an hour later when he’s halted completely. “Henry, what on _Earth_ —?”

Henry pushes past Marcus and makes for the kitchen. “Can babies drink milk? Like does it _gotta_ be formula or can I let ‘em suckle off the cow’s tit?”

Marcus blinks. “Henry, hang on a second. Where did you—? Who—?”

Turning on his heel, Henry faces Marcus with wide eyes. The baby held to his hip looks ready to fuss, her mouth pinching down with discomfort. “I’ll explain in a _fuckin’—shit_ , I. _God_ , Marcus, I just need some baby formula.”

Marcus inhales deeply from his nose. He’s in boxers and one of Ben’s shirts. “Gimme a minute to get some pants on and I’ll run to the store. And then you’re gonna sit down and tell me exactly what the he-heck is going on here.”

Relief radiates from Henry and he smiles, tired. “Yeah, man. God, thank you, Marcus.” He crooks the baby up into his elbow so she’s cradled.

Marcus huffs and returns to the bedroom. Ben’s still lounging around in the sheets, scrolling through his phone. He glances up at Marcus as he passes by and goes to dig through the closet for some jeans. “What’d Henry want?”

“He’s out there with a baby.”

Ben snorts. “I don’t think prom night abortions are in season yet.”

“No. Ugh. Darlin’, he’s out there in the kitchen. With a fuckin’ _baby_.”

Ben sits a bit more upright, his eyebrows raising with alarm. "Okay. And… _whose_ baby is it?"

"Fuckin' beats me. I'm goin' to get formula, though."

* * *

When Marcus returns with the proper necessities (powdered formula, a package of diapers, a bottle, and binky), Ben is in the kitchen with Henry and the baby.

"So uh. Hi, Marcus! Good morning, Henry! Are any of us gonna talk about the _infant_ Henry has all of a sudden?"

Marcus sets the plastic bag down on the table. He hasn't even had his coffee yet. He digs in his pocket, finds the receipt, and flicks it in Henry's direction. "Fess up, man."

"Fine. Hold her a minute?" Henry offers the baby to Ben who sputters back at least six inches in refusal. Marcus hefts her into his lap. Henry opens the bottle from its packaging and starts in with, "So last night. And this is _true_. I was visited by Greys."

Ben frowns tightly. "That isn't even _remotely_ funny right now, dude."

Henry tears open the box of formula and starts to measure out the powder. "I'm not _jokin_ ', man! Three Tall Greys… They—They beamed me up and—and suddenly I'm…! They gave me this kid, alright?"

"I swear to God," Ben interrupts, "Henry, we're not gonna get involved with-with some kidnapping fiasco you've got yourself into!" He looks over at Marcus for any indication that his boyfriend agrees, that this is crazy and humorless.

Marcus wants a cigarette.

"It's not—I didn't kidnap her!" Henry snaps. He sighs and pours water into the bottle, shakes it so it mixes. "We were right! The aliens, they can't—the universe is wilting and we're—they've got breeding programs going on. And this—the kid, she's part of it, okay?"

"Oh my God," Marcus mutters to himself.

Ben says, "The Area 51 caller on Coast to Coast. _That's_ who you sound like right now."

Henry smacks his palm to the center of his forehead and groans. The palpable distress is registered by the baby. Her little face wrinkles up. Marcus peeks down and coos, "Hey, now, sweet pea, none of that, alright?"

"Oh my God, Marcus," Ben groans.

"What? Want me to jus' let the poor thing _cry_?"

"I wanna know where this poor thing came from in the first place!"

"I told you!" Henry shouts. "Tall Greys! She's a _hybrid_! She needs human contact and exposure to-to-to our air and chemicals!"

Ben's brow furrows. "Henry. You want us to _really_ believe that this _baby_? This _human_ baby? Is-is-is from—That she's an _alien_!"

"Hybrid," Henry corrects. He takes the infant from Marcus and cradles her again, offering up the nipple of the bottle. She accepts it willingly and her features slacken, pacified by the milk. "The Greys want us to keep her until she's been fully exposed to life on Earth. Then she—They'll take her back up and when she's old enough, she—they ship her down to Earth as an adult to help spread Grey DNA."

Marcus sighs. He eases up from the table and grabs the coffee pot, serves himself a cup. "So. The Greys. They just give you a baby? And she's not even yours?"

"She ain't mine, but—their reason. They said. It's because of the show! Because I know so much about aliens already."

Ben snorts. "Are we done with this?" he asks, tone short, clipped. "Have we had our fun?"

"I'm bein' dead serious, man."

Marcus fills another mug with coffee and gives it to Ben who, despite his obvious frustration, murmurs, "Thank you, babe."

"A month," Henry says. He shifts the baby a bit in his arms. "A month of time spent here and then she's outta our lives."

Ben stares down into his coffee.

Marcus gives in and asks, "Figure you ain't changed her, have you?"

"Last night, but—Jesus, looked like a _Jackson_ _Pollock_ down there. Don't think I did her justice."

Marcus opens his arms. "Alright. Hand 'er over then."

Ben cocks his head. "Are we really going along with this? Just gonna accept the fact that aliens, literal aliens, gifted Henry a baby?"

Baby held tightly to his shoulder, Marcus begins to pat her back lightly. "What else is there to do?" he counters. "And knowing Henry, she's gotta be from aliens, otherwise he woulda just whipped the thing like a wet towel and been done with it."

"Oh, Marcus, that's horrible—"

"You _ever_ seen Henry _willingly_ hold an infant, Ben? Like, ever?"

Henry beams like he's just won a debate. "Goddamn genius, Marcus. Knew it was right comin' to you."

Marcus changes her in the bathroom. Henry tries to take instruction, but as soon as Marcus has removed the soiled diaper, Henry is gagging and reeling away. So Marcus tends to her on his own.

She's very pale, enough so that the veins beneath her skin look like blue rivers drawn onto a map. On her head is a crown of thin brown hair that seems to be growing in at a decent rate, just starting to curl. She has the standard number of fingers and toes, complete with toenails, and she appears attentive when Marcus talks to her.

The only thing that Marcus can see that's odd is her eyes. They're so dark they could be considered obsidian. Her pupil is almost indistinguishable from her iris. And even for a baby, her eyes seem huge. Not noticeable at first glance, but definitely a feature that doesn't exactly read human.

Marcus takes her into the living room and hands her to Henry. "Fresh and clean."

"My hybrid! My little Moon-Unit," he coos.

"Moon-Unit?" Ben asks. His tone is annoyed.

"Yeah, man! Like Frank Zappa's daughter! How sick of a name is Moon-Unit Zebrowski?"

"I was considerin' somethin' like… Elitha or Leanna," Marcus says. "Or Lovina. Like the girls of the Donner-Reed party."

Ben says, "Marcus, that's so _morbid_ of you…"

"Better than Moon-Unit, innit?"

Henry frowns. "Hey, now, she's _my_ space baby."

"Yeah, and you made her our problem," Marcus points out. "The names I have in mind are historical and have meaning."

"Moon-Unit has meaning!"

Ben groans, clenches his eyes shut for a long moment. "Why bother naming her at all? You don't want to get attached, do you?"

Ignoring Ben, Marcus offers Henry a deal. "How bout we compromise. A space name, but something a bit more socially acceptable than what you're thinking."

Henry squints. "Don't lowball me, Parks…"

"Zeta."

Ben and Henry both repeat the name. "Zeta?"

Marcus nods. He puts his hands up, shrugs. "She's most likely a Zeta Reticuli Grey, ain't she? Zeta makes sense."

Henry is slow to come around, but he grins. "Zeta Zebrowski is kick ass… Double Z!"

And with that, her name is decided.

* * *

Marcus didn't think to buy a crib or cradle while making his first trip to the store, so they make do with what they've got. Marcus and Ben fold up their blankets in the center of the bed and flank them with pillows. Zeta is placed gently on her back and there she dozes.

Henry must not have been lying about his rough night because he conks out on the couch as soon as the baby is taken from his arms.

Standing in the doorway while Marcus fusses with the bed, Ben says softly, "She's so… little."

Marcus smiles over at him. "Innit she?"

"Looks pretty perfect for a Hybrid…"

Marcus giggles and joins Ben in the doorway, watches her sleep. "You realize this is gonna be absolute hell for the next however long, right?"

Ben laughs, hearty. "Listen, sweetheart, I'm already well enough aware."

From there, Marcus instructs Ben to babyproof the apartment. Animal skulls are locked in glass cases. Bongs are tucked away into the closet. Frightening imagery, such as graphic horror movie posters, are, much to the dismay of Marcus, taken down and rolled up.

While Ben goes about that, Marcus writes a list of what they'll need. Baby clothes. A crib. A monitor. A bathtub and all the other essentials that go with bathing.

It gets to be pretty lengthy and Marcus holds his head in his hands, talks himself out of needing a vape break.

That's going to the hardest part: no exposing Zeta to pot, nicotine, or alcohol. Henry and Ben are definitely going to pitch a fit when they come to the realization that they can't be getting black out smashed with an infant around. Marcus has most of his vices under control, but it's a precariously maintained chemistry. The additional stress is going to be earth-shattering, he knows.

Ben comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his shoulders. "Think we should take it to court? Demand the Greys provide support?"

Marcus tries to laugh, but it comes out as a sigh. "I can hardly handle myself. How am I meant to care for an infant?"

"Hey now… If you add up the three of us… that's like 70% qualified! And you're _at least_ 50% of that."

"How come you're the one pep talking me all of a sudden? Thought you didn't wanna keep her."

Ben chuckles, gives Marcus a squeeze. "Don't tell Henry, but I keep looking in and hoping she's turned into a small dog…"

Marcus actually giggles at that. "Are we—we're just going along with this?"

"What else is there to do?"

"I mean, as soon as a I consider the source, the implications, the-the-the _idea_ that our planet is being seeded because we screwed up so bad aliens have to step in and I just snap into this cosmic horror considering—"

"You think those same aliens are gonna be happy if we try to send her back? You've done the reading, Marcus, they could turn us to soup in an instance."

It's funny, how that's both soothing and not.

* * *

Choosing who stays with Zeta and who goes baby shopping is the toughest decision the boys are required to make thus far. Marcus has proven best suited to care for her, but he's positive if he's not there to double check and ensure that all of the items are accounted for, Henry and/or Ben won't get everything right in one go. Henry's capable enough to feed her, but changing is still a hurdle he's opposed to. Ben is essentially useless.

"If we had one of those slings, Ben could just wear her around the store," Henry says.

Ben looks startled. "A fall from _that_ height? We'd trigger a war of the worlds!"

They finally decide that Henry will stay in the apartment with Zeta while Ben and Marcus gather supplies. They promise to be as quick as possible. Text if you need anything, no heavy metal, don't lay her on her stomach.

Shopping goes as well as it can when you're looking for baby essentials for a alien-human hybrid. Ben gripes and complains the entire time, but when pressed, he caves and helps pick colors and styles, gives his input for which style highchair he thinks will work best.

Henry texts once to say that Zeta is awake and safe in his arms.

They get back to the apartment an hour or two later and as soon as Marcus is in the door, Zeta is being shoved into his arms.

"She needs a changing," Henry says.

Marcus scowls. "Fine. But you're putting together the crib _and_ the highchair."

"More than a fair trade."

"Gonna need to learn this eventually, you know."

Henry pushes past to help Ben carry in a box and mutters something about dirty diapers going against his belief in Satan.

* * *

By noon, Henry's got the crib put together. Ben inserts the mattress and puts the sheet on.

Henry's in the kitchen working on the highchair. A bolt clangs to the floor which is promptly followed by a frustrated, "Fuck!"

"Language," Ben scolds, half joking.

"Should start a swear jar," Marcus joins in. He gives Zeta a poke on the nose and she gurgles a happy giggle, wraps around his index finger.

Some minutes later, Henry comes into the living room, red in the face, and upon seeing Ben, Marcus, and Zeta snuggled on the couch, says, "Thought you boys weren't team ZZ."

"Any infant needs human contact," Marcus says.

Ben offers to order DoorDash and no one argues. In the frenzy of ensuring Zeta gets the proper care, food has seemed to slip their minds. The mention of it awakes their collective hunger and they agree on burritos.

Zeta gets laid in her crib with a binky and she happily suckles, looks up at Henry and Marcus with those huge, inky eyes. Henry looks at her fondly and Marcus chuckles, amused.

"What?"

"Never knew you to be soft on kids is all."

"She's a freakin' alien, Marcus! All three of us, we know aliens are real. Zeta is proof of that!" Henry melts into a dreamy smile. "All this time wonderin' and sweatin' and readin' and now she's here and-and I experienced it, man! The question as old as time and we got the answer here in front of us."

"Guess that is pretty special, huh?"

"Actually bums me out that Art Bell and Hynek and John Keel ain't around to witness it…"

Ben interrupts with burritos, which is a cheerful distraction. They sit at the table in the kitchen. Zeta is, at the request of Marcus, pulled up into view so they can keep watch while they eat.

"You guys are cool with me staying here, right?"

Ben rolls his eyes. "As much as a pain in the ass—"

"Swear Jar," Marcus and Henry both chime.

"As much as a pain in the _fanny_ it is, sending you off alone with a baby is the _worst_ idea, I think, in the history of mankind."

Henry laughs. "Stuck with me and Little Z till she's called back."

Ben drops a quarter into the swear jar, which already has two crumpled one dollar bills shoved inside, courtesy of Henry.

* * *

The rest of the day, given the circumstances, is fairly unremarkable. Zeta is fed and changed in regular rotations. Marcus and Henry talk to her and Ben, though reluctant, tries his best to interact when Marcus pushes him. They agree that podcast recording will take place in the office from here out, to avoid bringing Zeta into the public.

Henry sets up a makeshift bed on the couch. Zeta's crib is angled near enough that he can tend to her in the night. Marcus and Ben retire to their room, but keep the door slightly ajar in case they're needed.

And boy oh boy, are they ever needed.

For a couple hours, everyone sleeps peacefully. Henry saws logs. Marcus sleeps facing Ben, arms around each other.

The illusion of normalcy is shattered when Zeta opens her little mouth and wails shrilly. Henry tumbles off the couch, bringing his blanket along with him, and he fights to dance out of it, all tangled up. Marcus springs out of bed like the place is on fire and skids into the living room.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

Henry eases Zeta up and starts to rock her. "Dunno. Just started crying."

Ben lumbers in and, groggy with sleep, slurs something resembling a question.

Henry paces, jostles Zeta in an attempt to soothe her. This yields little results, her crying turning to howls and shrieks. She's passed to Marcus who sings low and soft the first song that comes to his mind, which happens to be I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry. Zeta hushes for a moment, but the calm passes and she cranks back into her fit.

Marcus tries to pass her off to Ben, but he snaps awake and backs away.

"Ben, please," Marcus pleads. "Babies need contact when they cry."

Ben steps forward and looks down at Zeta. Her pink slash of a tongue gleams reflective with spittle, wriggles in her open mouth like a dying fish as she squeals.

"I…" Ben sighs. "I don't want to hurt her, Marcus."

"You won't. Here." Marcus offers her up and he guides Ben's hands to the proper spots so she's supported appropriately. "Like that. Go on and talk to her, she likes it."

Ben hesitates, feeling dumb, but he leans down and whispers to her. A greeting. A hello. Followed by gentle questions. "What's got you cryin'? Huh? First night away from home? Uncle Ben's gotcha. Don't gotta cry…" He keeps this up and a minute later, Zeta has wound down and gurgles, coos.

Henry slumps on the couch. "Oh thank God," he breathes.

Marcus checks her diaper and she's dry. He offers her a binky and a bottle, but she refuses both.

"Think she just wants to be held, Big Guy."

Ben frowns, but continues rubbing circles against her back.

The night continues like this. Zeta gets put down and a couple hours later, she's awake. Each time, she wants to be held by someone different, so the guys end up taking shifts like they're snipers on the same team. If Zeta wants Marcus, Ben and Henry return to sleep. They keep this rotation until sunrise.

None of them are rested.

"Henry, do you have the Greys on speed dial?" Ben asks, leaned against the arm of the couch. "I'd like to return a product."

Henry makes a low noise and tries to sit up. "She's just… adjusting. Right, Marcus?"

"I fuckin' hope so, man."

And even as exhausted as they are, Ben and Henry both mutter, "Swear Jar."

* * *

The first week is the toughest. Zeta cries every night without fail. Most of the time she wants Ben so he's the most on edge during the day. Since they're technically self employed, they at least have the luxury of staying in, sticking to pajamas, and taking naps during the day. DoorDash is a blessing and they utilize it for nearly every meal.

Henry and Ben go through alcohol withdrawal at just about the same time, which makes both of them insufferable.

Marcus hails his medication. Without it, he's positive he'd have a double homicide on his hands.

For all the night disturbances, Zeta is a relatively sweet and quiet baby. She's reactive to external stimuli and reaches for the boys whenever they're in sight. She takes to her bottle without fuss and spit ups are rare.

Research is a knife to the throat, but Ben and Henry attend to Zeta while Marcus squirrels away in his study to type up outlines and read. They manage their scheduled episode, though it takes more tries than usual. Zeta will chirp outside the door and recording has to stop to ensure she's taken care of.

Marcus spends a lot longer than he normally does editing.

He doesn't want any particularly observant viewers hearing Zeta cry or laugh in the background and toss around conspiracy theories that they have a baby.

Henry orders a HAIL SATAN onesie and is delighted when it arrives, dresses Zeta in it immediately. He's taken to changing diapers as well, though the act is always accompanied by some colorful commentary.

Ben is a bit slower in his progression. When pushed, he'll hold Zeta when she isn't fussing, but it's apparent he's still nervous about it. Marcus secretly delights in seeing Ben cradling her. His hands dwarf her completely, his movements so cautious and methodical.

* * *

"Marcus?"

"Yeah?"

"Can ya c'mere?"

Marcus shucks off his headphones. He finds Henry in the kitchen with Zeta. "Yeah?"

"Uhhh. Listen, I dunno like, a _lot_ about babies, but I'd guess that Zeta is way too young to be growin' these." He points at her mouth and Marcus stoops down to peer in.

A tooth has cut through.

"Huh. Boy, she didn't even fuss at all over that, did she?"

A week in and Zeta sleeps for extended periods of time during the night without so much as a peep. It's odd that her teething isn't twinned with fits of tears. Her gums don't appear to be inflamed and she doesn't attempt to shove her fists into her mouth for something to chew.

They shrug it off. No sense questioning her development so long as it comes easy.

At noon, Ben notices that she's got three teeth cropped up in her mouth now. And not just the white sprouts of them, but full teeth broken through and standing at attention.

"Okay. That's definitely weird…," Marcus says.

"Mature for her age," Henry laughs. "That's my Zeta! A real champ at churnin' out those skull bones!"

From there out, it seems like every time one of them goes to check in on her, Zeta's got another tooth poked through. They never witness it actually pushing up and out. It's like a magic trick: she closes her mouth for a second and when she opens it, her tooth count has grown exponentially.

The next morning, Zeta has two full rows of chompers.

"It's gotta be a Hybrid thing," Henry says.

"Or she's a medical miracle," Ben offers.

"You reckon that means she should be off formula?" Marcus asks

No one knows the answer. A book on the care of alien offspring hasn't been written yet.

* * *

They start with the standard vegetable mush: peas, carrots, squash. She spits up and turns her chin away, creases her eyes shut in refusal when Henry offers out the spoon.

So they try fruits. Banana, apple, peach, mango. Various blends that smell better than their first picks. But still, Zeta fusses and whines, makes a mess of the pentagram patterned bib Henry bought matching with her onesie.

"She won't—she don't take the bottle and she hates baby food," Henry groans. He runs a hand through his hair, hangs his head down. "What the _fuck_ do Greys eat? Soylent Green?"

He doesn't need to be told. Henry is shoving a dollar into the Swear Jar before Ben or Marcus can remind him.

"What about those puffs? The ones shaped like stars?" Ben offers. "I knew a guy in college who ate those like, every day."

"Could try meat." Marcus shrugs, raises an eyebrow.

"Meat?" Ben echoes.

"Yeah. I bought, you know, beef and gravy, chicken and gravy."

Henry snaps his fingers and opens his palm. "Hand it over, Dogmeat."

They start with chicken and gravy and disgustingly enough, Zeta slurps up every spoonful she's provided. Marcus giggles, amused, relieved that they've found what works for her. She empties the first can and Henry unclips her bib, hoists her up to burp her.

"Kissel was on the right track with the star puff things. We should try those, too," Henry says. Zeta hiccups over his shoulder, babbles contentedly.

* * *

With Zeta sleeping through the night, Marcus and Ben stay together in their room again. A moment of peace before they're back to tending to Zeta and juggling the responsibility of the podcasts.

Marcus pulls off his shirt, drops it to the floor. He flops down on the bed and stretches out like a cat, rolls over, looks up at Ben with a small smile. "Whaddya think? She gonna turn out to be a good kid?"

Ben snorts. He crawls into bed beside Marcus, pulls him to his chest. "For an alien, I think she'll do alright."

"Think you might love her."

"Oh, I do not."

Marcus giggles. "No? You wouldn't be upset if something happened to her?"

Ben huffs. "That's just cruel. Of course I'd be upset. I'm a _human_ , aren't I?"

"I dunno… Could be a Grey in disguise. A Tall White pretending to be my boyfriend." Marcus grins and presses his palms flat to Ben's chest, trails them down slowly.

"Guess you'll have to find out for yourself."

Marcus has just started to peel off Ben's shirt, is leaning up to press a soft kiss to his mouth, when Zeta's cries static over the monitor and breaks them from their moment.

* * *

Three weeks into their babysitting, Zeta's eyes are much more attentive than they used to be. She trails Marcus with a serious gaze, looks up at Ben expectantly. And with Henry, she works her mouth open and shut, babbles like she's attempting to communicate something other than gibberish.

Marcus has her in his lap and is humming Ween's Blue Balloon. She can support her own head and weight now, which, despite them not knowing her exact age, feels a bit too advanced for a baby who appears as young as Zeta does. She's toying with a stuffed Baphomet plush that Henry didn't mind sacrificing for her entertainment.

One hand is around Zeta's middle to keep her upright. With his other, Marcus is holding his phone, checking emails.

Zeta trills and "bah"s. This is followed by a "uh-uh-uh" Marcus has never heard from her.

Marcus tilts his head, stops humming. "Whaddya talkin' about down there?" he asks softly.

"Bah!" she answers. "Buh-bup-uh!"

Marcus chuckles and tickles under her chin, which sends her into a spiral of delighted laughter. She swings her Baphomet up and down, smashes him into the couch as she squeals.

Zeta reigns in her laughter and her features tighten up. "Mmmm," she hums. "Ma!"

"Ma?" Marcus asks.

Zeta chatters, trained on the M sound she's trying out. After some effort she lands on "Muhmuh!" which pleases her greatly, evident by the fact that she repeats it endlessly.

"Are you sayin' Mama?"

"Bah!"

Marcus blinks down at her and clicks his phone shut. He shifts her around and lifts her into his arms. He steps into the bedroom where Henry and Ben are both sleeping, their mouths open as they snore.  
Marcus shakes them awake.

"I think," he says, "Zeta is saying her first word."

That gets Henry's attention. He pops up and leans in close, beaming. "What's the news, ZZ?"

Zeta shouts, "Muhmuh!"

When the guys all break into laughter, Zeta joins in, her little face scrunched up as she giggles and twitters. Her large black eyes open and search from man to man until she settles on Ben.

"Buhp!" she declares.

"Oh _really_?" Ben says back. "Is _that_ what you think?"

"Buh-uh… Behhh…" Zeta shakes her Baphomet again, slapping it into Marcus' chest. "Beb!"

Marcus grins. "I think she means Ben…"

"Beb! Beb, Beb, Beb!" she chants.

Henry opens his arms eagerly, his eyes bright. "My turn!" As soon as she's handed over, Henry's smiling down at her. "Hi, Zeta… You gonna say my name? Can you do that for us? Give Papa Henry a hello?"

She wiggles for a moment. She reaches out and tries to grab at his facial hair, but Henry tenderly untangles her grip and redirects her grasp to her toy. "Puh," she sputters. There's a pause, her adjusting her tongue in her mouth. "Puhpuh…"

Henry barks a laugh and bounces her in his arms. "Papa Zebrowski, Mama Marcus, and Uncle Ben," he laughs.

"Now we _really_ gotta watch what we say around her…," Ben comments.

* * *

Zeta sits at the table in her highchair and skates her apple puffs around with one chubby index finger.

"Think we should throw a party?" Marcus asks.

"What, like a birthday?" Henry unwraps his breakfast croissant and takes a big bite.

"You said she's a month long thing, ain't she? We're warming up on that pretty quick."

Zeta says, "Beb!" and reaches a hand out. Ben holds up his thumb and she curls her first around him, pleased. "Could she handle cake do you think?" he asks.

"I dunno, but I sure could," Henry says through his mouthful of crust and ham and cheese. "Let's get a little cake, why not."

Ben glances down at the plastic table attached to Zeta's chair and hums. He draws his eyebrows together and cocks his head to the side curiously. "Guys?"

"Hm?"

"I'm either completely losing it or Zeta's the next Betty Hill because this looks like a star map of baby puffs."

Marcus and Henry crane across the kitchen table to get a proper look and sure enough, the puffs resemble a crude star map. She's got all the Gliese points, Alpha Mensa, Piscium 54 and 107. Even Sirius paired with its sun.

"Huh…" Marcus angles his head a few different ways. "Well. I guess we were right with where she comes from then."

* * *

They throw a party the next evening. Henry special orders a cake from one of the local bakeries and it arrives precisely how he dreamed: a UFO drawn in icing, yellow lights, a blue glass dome on the top. In the traction beam is a baby swaddled in a pink blanket.

"How'd you get away with that one?" Ben snorts. "That's like, a perfect metaphor for child abduction."

Henry sets the cake on the table and flips the paper top off. "Easy, man. Told the dude at the counter that my whole family is into the UFOlogy scene and my sister is having a baby shower and-and as soon as I mentioned the Anunnaki connection to aliens, he was ready to give me _anything_ to get me outta there."

Marcus laughs and sits down at the table with Zeta in his lap. She slaps her hands on the table top, chirping, "Muhmuh! Muhmuh!"

"You know, I think I'd give you want you want, too, and I'm pretty numbed to the whole alien thing," Ben mutters. He brings four plates over and sets them out accordingly.

Henry slices three large pieces out. The smallest slice is chosen so the swaddled baby is in the center of it and he slides the chunk of cake off the knife onto Zeta's plate. She blinks up at him and says, "Puhpuh!"

Zeta drops her attention to the cake in front of her. She seems to consider it for a minute, then sinks her fists into the dough, flinging little bits of icing over her shoulder with each upswing. Marcus laughs wildly then holds her by the wrist and says, "Hey now… Try this." He brings her hand to her mouth and she instinctively licks the frosting off.

"I'd call that a success," Ben hums.

"Zeta Zebrowski… Destroyer of cakes today… Tomorrow… _worlds_!" Henry cackles. He watches her with a fond expression that doesn't go unnoticed.

"According to my calendar," Marcus says, "Zeta is leaving any day now."

Henry frowns. "Returning home."

Marcus nods, shovels some cake into his mouth. "If a month is right… You think they'll know where to find you?"

"Ought to, right? Psychic phenomenon and all that."

Ben says, "We could always project a sign in the sky. Like the Bat Signal!"

Marcus snorts and pulls Zeta's hands out of her cake again, uses her bib to dab her mouth. "Be honest, Henry… Gonna miss her?"

Henry looks at Zeta, seated in Marcus' lap, staring up at him with black doe eyes and he sighs. "I miss aliens every day, man. I've dreamt of this for 30 years… Of course I'm gonna miss her…"

Once Zeta grows bored with her cake, Henry picks her up and takes her into the bathroom to wash up. Marcus supervises because the last thing they need is Henry accidentally drowning an alien baby and bringing upon the wrath of the galaxies. Ben stands in the doorway like a nervous mother and makes little backseat comments about supporting her head, not getting water in her ears.

She enjoys the water and when she's done and dried, they dress her in a soft yellow onesie. Zeta is set in her crib and the guys sit on the couch and zone out to television for a while.

"What if they want you to take care of another?" Marcus asks.

"I'll freakin' _off_ myself… I can't do it again."

Ben and Marcus laugh, but they agree. None of them wanted a kid. She's a kick ass half-alien so she gets a pass, but the thought of another round is unbearable to even imagine.

"Suicide pact if they do?" Ben asks.

They put their hands in as mutual promise.

* * *

Henry awakes to the same searing light as last time. He can feel the soft, warm weight of Zeta in his arms, held safely to his chest.

**YOU HAVE PROVEN WORTHY. YOUR SPECIES WILL PERHAPS SURVIVE THROUGH THE COMING GLOBAL CRISIS.**

Henry blinks his eyes open. The three Tall Greys are staring back at him, stock straight, dressed in their metallic blue space suits.

"Uhhh. Yeah. No sweat."

The center Grey steps forward and removes Zeta from his arms.

**YOUR KINDNESS WILL NOT GO UNNOTICED. YOUR SPECIES AND OURS HAS BEEN DEPENDENT ON YOUR EFFORT. FURTHER PRACTICES SHALL CONTINUE WITH OTHERS AS KNOWLEDGEABLE AS YOU.**

Henry feels like he's standing underwear, his limbs impossibly light, buoyant. He could float right up and out of wherever he is. "I don't gotta like, take care of anymore kids, do I?" he asks slowly.

**YOUR RUN IS FINALIZED. YOUR CONTACT WITH US WILL CEASE.**

That disappoints Henry a bit, but the sadness is far from him. "Cool, man," he answers.

The last thing he recalls before the scene washes over in black is Zeta's small voice saying, "Puhpuh!"

* * *

"Okay, the baby is friggin' _gone_ so Henry, I'm going to assume she was—she got returned last night?" Ben asks. His voice is hovering over being hysterical.

Henry nods, still drowzy. "Yeah. They took Zeta back."

Ben relaxes his shoulders and slumps down into his armchair. "Oh thank _Christ_ ," he breathes.

"Said they ain't coming back either."

From the kitchen, Marcus whoops, " _Lord hallelujah_!"

There is, of course, a lingering air of sadness in the apartment, Zeta's crib sitting empty beside the couch, her highchair a skeletal memory in the kitchen.

Henry breaks this, though, by saying, "I'm _never_ fuckin' havin' kids."

Ben and Marcus agree on that front without hesitation

**Author's Note:**

> oh and in case anyone is wondering, the guys don't attempt to take pictures of zeta out of a silent instinct, kind of like how betty and barney hill felt after their abduction (strange behaviors without explanation)
> 
> anyways! thank you for reading
> 
> if any of you liked this idea, you're welcome to use zeta in whatever way you like, or just write your own kid fic! 
> 
> you can find me on tmblr @ficfucker 
> 
> hail zeta moon-unit zebrowski kissel-parks!


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